Theme - Power (Death?) not sure.
Word Count - 1100
The King's thoughts turned to the empire he had spent centuries constructing, built upon sins and hatred. His thoughts were not of betterment of his people, but of how it all bored him so. The King would often sit in horror, of some horrible deed he had committed so many years ago, when he had given the old man his own soul for immortality. He knew of it, but it was like a story told to him in passing. He couldn't fully understand what it meant.
Even after all these years the truth lingered over him, just out of reach. His greatest sin had been building using the sweat and blood of his people only to do nothing with the power. The councils he had held, were for his own amusement only. His people starved in the streets, as he sat bored wondering what he could occupy his time with that day.
The crops they planted, and the livestock they tended began to die. There was no answer to why. Healthy livestock, full of life and no sign of sickness would fall dead. The meat they gave was strange and tasteless. The ones who ate it felt as if they had not eaten anything. It gave them no strength. Not long after, the people of his kingdom too began to fall. No medicine man or healer of the kingdom could find a cause.
The years passed, and his people called out for a savior. She arrived in the form the healer, Maria. He had never looked upon a women and felt anything other than lust, but he looked upon Maria, he saw more. He wanted her to be happy. At first, things seemed to become better for his people. He listened to her advice, and gave the people what they wanted. Love seemed to slow his mind further, he began to take her advice and guidance as a joke. He began laughing when she would tell him of the plight of his people.
The fewer his subjects became, the less clarity he had. He began yelling and screaming at shadows. Commanding his guard to arrest inanimate objects. He began to laugh at jokes only he could hear.
She warned him that though age may not end him, the blade of a peasant would.
He brushed her off, telling her of his guards, his army, his power.
He had lived so long and told so many lies that he had began to believe that he was really a god. He truly began to believe that no blade nor poison would harm him. She knew this would be his downfall but her words fell upon deaf ears.
The throne room in which he sat was adorned with the finest tapestries that could be found upon the continent.
The floor was made of polished stone that reflected the room as if it were build upon still water.
His throne, if smelted down and sold as slag would feed his entire kingdom for years, but instead is supported him and his ever growing ego as he became fat and lazy.
"Maria my dear," he said, trying to lean over the side of his thrown. His girth did not allow this however, so he simply appears to be melting into the armrest.
"Yes my lord?" her voice calm as ever, though hatred filled her heart. She did not hate the King, but instead what he was becoming.
The farms of his land were producing less crops than ever before, and he continued to eat more each meal.
"How are the lands?"
"In dire need."
"Oh, you're such the jest."
"It is not jest, as I tell you everyday."
He leaned back in his throne, "Serf! Come at once, I demand food!"
"Sire," her voice a whisper, "he died many nights ago."
"Well, then hire another."
"There is no man in the city that can care for you."
"Is there a woman? Maybe, one standing before me?" the King chuckled at his own "joke".
"Very well sir."
Many hours passed, and the King became fearful. She had never been away from his side for this long.
When she returned, she carried a large trey.
"What is it?" he asked, clapping in anticipation.
She opened the trey, and upon it was a beautiful ham. Glaze with sweat sauce.
She knelt and he ate from it as she held it before him.
It had been so long since he had such a meal, had it? Why did this seem so strange?
He had eaten such meat before, and that was... he had eaten, what had it been?
No, not a ham.
The human head that sat upon the plate now bore many bites. The mouth agape.
It had been many years ago. He had sat in this very throne. Many people crying in anguish, a table, and upon that table a plate. The plate overflown with meat, human arms and legs. The old man stood and watched, he chanted, he cast a spell. The spell would keep the king young for all of time. The old man did not look away as the king began to consume the flesh.
He slapped the plate from her hand, "What have you done?"
"Nothing my lord. I searched high and low for that food. There is so little within the city."
He looked to the head, no. The ham on the ground.
The world became fuzzy. Echos of his past continued to ring in his ears.
"I did this for you," she said, lowering him to the ground.
"What...?"
"The last meat in the city, coated in poison. Now we all die, but you will go before us."
"I don't understand."
She crossed his arms as she said a prayer for him, "Over the lake you travel. When you reach the shore please pay the tole for those who will soon follow, it is the only thing now for you to do. It is the only way to repay your debts to your people."
As if a cloud had been lifted from his mind, he remembered, he knew. He stood, Maria now lie upon the ground, the vial of poison in her hand. Sitting in his throne, he wept but no tears were produced. He took the dagger he kept at his side, and began to stab his own heart, no blood came forth.
With one swift motion, he brought the knife across his neck.
He could not die, he would never die.
The only thing left for him was to watch his kingdom fall, and his people starved.
Discord
Light Style